


Charity Case

by EWBANH



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Bromance, Background Relationships, Blood and Injury, Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Post TftBl, Pre Borderlands 3, Roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWBANH/pseuds/EWBANH
Summary: Rhys hasn't made a lot of connections, or friends, as Sasha liked to put it, while on Pandora. With a plan to soon leave the planet, Rhys tries to maintain those rather frail connections he does have.August could be more enthusiastic about it.
Relationships: Rhys and August, Rhys/Sasha (Borderlands)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Charity Case

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much an excuse to write some sweet bonding time between Rhys and August because I noticed there's a lack of it! I think Rhys would try and maintain friendships with others so he probably has a weird thing about making August his buddy, even with the other man's reluctance. In this timeline, August would have fought alongside them to defeat the vault monster. 
> 
> Warnings: Blood & Injury, an obvious lead up to sexual content in the first chapter (between Sasha and Rhys), and alcohol/drinking. 
> 
> Title is from the song Paradise City by Guns and Roses which I think fits the two well LMAO

The alcohol burned in Rhys’ stomach, a warm sensation filling him as he lulled out. He was comfortable in the small bed he shared with Sasha, the woman standing beside the bed, slowly maneuvering herself out of her outfit for the day. 

Rhys looked over, smiling softly as Sasha slid out of her tight jeans, slipping into a pair of Rhys’ boxers. Her hands made quick work of disposing of her bra, slipping into a loose tank top before flicking off the light in the bedroom. The window provided just a slither of light, enough for Sasha to make her way into the warm bed. It wasn’t anywhere near warm enough for the duo to sleep without blankets, her hands grabbing at the thick quilt as she pulled it up to her lap. 

Sasha was still seated upward when Rhys spoke, lying on his back with his bare chest slowly falling and rising. 

“You think August likes me?” He asked, voice soft. 

It took a beat before Sasha hummed a note, her hands flat against the quilt as she looked over. 

“I think he tries to,” She answered, tilting her head a bit. 

Rhys snorted, eyes tracing the still fan above them both. “He hates me doesn’t he?”

“I don’t think so,” Sasha murmured, looking over, her legs crossed beneath her as she dug her elbow into the side of her knee, chin falling into her palm. “If he hated you he wouldn’t let you into his bar, or you know, talk to you.” 

“He’s an asshole when he talks to me,” Rhys pointed out, raising a brow. 

Sasha smiled, chuckling softly. “Rhys, he’s an asshole in general,” She started, fingers drumming against her chin. “Why do you want him to like you so bad?” She paused, eyes narrowing. “Do you feel guilty?”

Rhys shook his head. “Not really,” He sighed, pursing his lips for a beat before looking over with a slight smirk. “I didn’t steal you, because of course, you are not some object.” 

“Classy.” 

A laugh broke out of Rhys’ chest as he looked over her unamused self, raising his hand to gently flick her nose. She smacked his hand away, unable to deny the slight smile on her lips as she looked him over. 

“I feel bad that he got roped into the whole vault thing, and then his mom and…” Rhys mumbled, only to cut himself off with a sigh. “I don’t know.” 

“He’s never asked you to leave him alone,” Sasha pointed out, drumming her fingers against her chin once more. “Trust me, he’d tell you to go away if you annoyed him.” 

Rhys pouted. “Maybe.” 

“And, you’re forgetting, he made the whole vault thing worse,” Sasha added, brow perked up. “Yes, he saved my life blah blah, but he’s not exactly innocent.”

“None of us are,” Rhys countered. 

Sasha was still for a beat, eyes scanning Rhys before promptly sitting up. She hitched her leg up, coming to a seat on his stomach before leaning forward, taking his chin into one hand, another resting over his bare chest. 

“Well, you should try and get him to hang out with you somewhere,” She spoke, her voice growing more and more like a purr as she squeezed his chin. 

Rhys grinned as best he could in her hand, his own palms curling up to hold her hips. “I just might do that,” He rumbled out, hand rising up the back of her shirt, curling to hold her side as she leaned down closer.  _ “Tomorrow.” _

Sasha smirked, rolling her eyes before leaning down and placing a kiss on his lips, her hand falling from his chin to snake up to his hair, grabbing a fistful as the man laughed into the kiss.

“Guessing I have plans tonight?” He managed in between the various kisses the two shared, his hands on either side of her bare ribs inching higher. 

“Shut up,” Sasha muttered, trailing her lips down to his neck, the hand in his hair growing tighter as her lips bit at his soft skin. 

“Shutting up,” Rhys breathed out, grinning wide as he lifted Sasha’s shirt up and over her figure.

* * *

It takes a few days for Rhys to gather the courage to  _ actually _ ask August for some  _ ‘guy time’, _ as Sasha had put it. It took two more days for August to grumble out a random day in the upcoming week that he’d be free to do so, not quite able to meet Rhys’ gleeful eyes as he muttered a weak  _ sure. _

Rhys was a little more than just ecstatic. 

Of course, he wasn’t prepared for the sheer awkwardness that would come with taking a four day trip to retrieve _something_ in the Highlands. But Rhys still took a week off of Atlas work, with some compromise from Yvette and help from Sasha. Now, he sat in the vehicle beside the near silent man, old timey music playing through the radio as the silence wore on. 

August wore a longer sleeved blue sweater, his usual vest atop with a pair of black jeans, the fabric of his right knee ripped. Rhys wore a suit, like he always did, a gray button up with a darker gray vest and jacket. His gray slacks were split, one side with the familiar striped gray and black while the other was just a plain gray color. 

“I never took you as the type of guy to listen to old people music,” Rhys spoke, finally looking over to the man. August’s elbow was resting on the window sill, his temple in his palm as he drove with one arm. 

“Ma used to like it,” August replied, not looking over. 

Rhys immediately cringed, looking down to his lap. “Oh, right.” 

Silence fell back over the pair, much heavier. Rhys could only stand it for so long before clearing his throat, looking back over with a weak smile. 

“I like the brow piercing!” He tried, silently congratulating himself when August looked over. 

“Thanks, just got it done two weeks ago,” He answered, focusing back on the barren landscape ahead. 

“Oooh? Where?” Rhys asked, tilting his head a bit. “I noticed the tattoo parlor half a mile away from your place-”

“I did it myself,” August interrupted gruffly, “I ain’t letting nobody near me with a needle.” 

“Fair enough,” Rhys replied with a shrug, fixing his too-long legs in the passenger seat. He couldn’t quite get comfortable, glaring at his boots in silent frustration. 

August looked over again, Rhys meeting his gaze immediately. 

“You can move the seat back, Rhys,” He spoke, almost tired, his eyes narrowing as he focused back on the road. “I’m not going to kill you for pushing back the chair a few inches. Just don’t put your nasty shoes on the dashboard.” 

“First of all, my shoes are probably the cleanest thing in this car,” Rhys countered, raising a brow as his arms crossed. “Second of all, I can survive a few hours in this vehicle without having to push the chair back.” 

August didn’t say anything immediately, only huffing out an annoyed breath as his arm dropped from the windowsill, taking a hold of the wheel. The arm closest to Rhys reached over his waist and to the far side of the seat, digging around despite Rhys’ protests. 

The chair moved back a good few inches with a slight bang, August’s arm immediately retracting back and gripping onto the wheel with a roll of his eyes.

“Now was that so hard?” He muttered. 

Rhys huffed out his own breath, grumbling out a _thank you_ before stretching his legs out, thankful his knees no longer felt like they were about to snap in half. He stared out the window, resting his temple against the glass as his arms tightened around himself. 

“We’ve got a few more hours to go before we get to the first stop,” August spoke, his voice a tad bit less gruff than usual. 

“Gotcha,” Rhys replied, situating himself as best he could within the seat. “Can’t wait to meet your buddies.”

“It’s just two guys,” August mumbled, one hand on his own knee as he lazily held the steering wheel. “They owe me some product from a while back.”

Rhys looked over, brows raised in near-alarm. “Do they now?”

“No violence, don’t worry,” August muttered, waving the man off. “It’s just some shit for the bar. A couple boxes of booze. These guys know not to try anything with me.” 

“Why don’t you send your goons after them?” Rhys asked, genuinely curious. “You’ve got that big guy, you could’ve taken him.” 

August rolled his eyes. “You said you wanted to come, Rhys. I was plannin’ on doing this shit alone,'' He grumbled. 

“No, I know,” Rhys assured, looking over. “I’m just wondering why they don’t bring the product to you. Or why you don't send someone out.” 

It took a moment before August shrugged one shoulder. “Nice to leave Hollow Point,” He answered simply. “Haven’t left in a year and a half.” 

_ Right. The vault. _

“Cool,” Rhys settled on, turning back to rest his head on the window. “Can’t blame you.” 

“Yeah,” August replied quietly.

Rhys’ eyes focused on the landscape ahead, his chest rising and falling with a sigh.   


* * *

The first stop of the journey is in a sad excuse of a run down town in the middle of the Tundra Express. The ‘town’ was barely even that, occupying a saloon and inn combination, a sheriff's office, a few homes, and a few shops. Wooden buildings stood one each side of the one street town, the blurring and fast-falling snow barely a hindrance to August as he and Rhys stomped into the saloon. 

August handled most of the checking in, keeping his head down as Rhys hung back, seemingly searching the practically empty bar with curious eyes. His hands held his and August’s backpack, his suit jacket pulled tight against his figure in the cold air. 

It only took a few seconds for August to pay for the shared room for the night, making their way up the spiral creaking staircase in the back. He looked down at the heavy key in his hand for their room of the six available, unlocking and entering with a huff. 

The room that greeted them was as small as the duo had expected. Two twin sized beds sat on each side of the wall, messily fixed up with a nightstand in the middle. To the right, a door stood, no doubt holding their shared bathroom while the left held a dresser and accompanying mirror above. 

“I’m showerin’ first,'' August announced, flopping onto the bed closest to the bathroom with a huff. He vaguely registered Rhys dropping his heavy backpack onto the ground beside his calves. 

“Fine by me,” Rhys answered, sitting on the edge of his bed as he immediately looked out the window, eyes wide. 

August sat up, looking over with a curious look but saying nothing. He settled on digging through his backpack, pulling out a more comfortable outfit to sleep in. 

“You know,” Rhys started, not looking away from the window, the pale blue light reflecting off his face. “I like this little town. It’s quaint. Gives me a good vibe.” 

A snort left August as he stood up. “Yeah, half the inhabitants died from the brain shivers,” He spoke, looking over with an unamused look. “From the drilling.” 

Rhys’ brows were pinched together, still not looking over as he tapped his shoe onto the wooden flooring of the room. 

“Yeah, got it.” 

August didn’t say anything else, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head before taking to the bathroom. He was thankful for the towel already hanging over the shower, deciding not to focus too hard on the unnatural color of it before setting his clothes down onto the sink. He scanned the room, ducking under the sink to search for any sign of tracking devices or microphones, doing the same to the toilet before giving the room a satisfied nod. 

It was rare August had the time to actually shower and relish in hot water, not that the water was anything more than lukewarm at best. Still, he took his time, spending a good thirty minutes soaking in the moisture before climbing out of the shower. He slowly got dressed, running the towel over his wet hair as he looked into the dirtied and cracked mirror. His icy blue eyes stared back, satisfied as he opened the door to the room, steam following him out. 

The bedroom was now empty. 

August frowned but didn’t do much of anything else, sitting down onto his claimed bed with a sigh. He immediately brought out his pistol, looking it over as he grabbed a cleaning rag from his backpack. Slowly but surely, August worked to clean the weapon, eyes locked onto the weapon for as long as he could manage before looking back up to the empty bed across from him. 

Rhys’ backpack was untouched, resting against the bed on the floor. The room itself was exactly as August had left it, as if Rhys hadn’t even hung around for a moment before disappearing as soon as August had entered the bathroom. 

Rhys was a grown half-cyborg man, August reminded himself, shaking his head before focusing back down at the weapon in his hands. He reloaded the weapon, ensuring the safety was still on as he frowned.

_ He just needs a little help with Pandora sometimes, _ A voice that didn’t sound too unalike Sasha’s echoed in his mind as he set his jaw.  _ Just keep an eye on him, please? He wanted to connect with you. _

A near growl left August as he stood up, shoving his pistol into the waistband of his sweats before sliding his blue sweater over his short sleeve. He grumbled a few curses out, stomping back into his boots as he entered the hall. It was predictably empty but August still searched with his eyes, making his way down the spiral staircase in the back of the building. He walked past the public bathroom, peering into the employee only section of the bar before stepping past the various booths. 

The man who had once sat behind the bar was nowhere to be seen, an inkling of caution growing in August’s stomach as he looked over the one knocked out patron in a booth. His boots echoed off the floor, the dim light ahead flickering as the static-y music echoed pathetically. 

_ God damn it. _

August made his way to the doors of the building, pushing it open as his other palm hovered over his waist, prepared for a fight, only to stop on the porch of the saloon. His eyes widened, blinking a few times as he stared down at the steps. 

Rhys sat on the steps, his chin in his metallic palm as his elbow dug into his knee, his other hand outstretched over the awning to catch a few big snowflakes in his palm. August couldn’t see his face, settling on staring at the back of his head for another beat. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” 

The man jolted up, spinning around to face August with equally wide eyes, the tips of his nose and cheeks now reddened from the cold. He gave the man a weak chuckle before looking out to the snow with a half shrug.

“I’ve only seen snow once or twice before,” Rhys answered simply, looking back out into the blizzard, his arms resting over his knees as he bounced a leg. “It’s… nice.” 

“It’s fucking cold,” August countered, coming to a stand beside the man, resting his elbow onto the railing. “How’re you not freezing your ass off?”

“Oh I am,” Rhys answered, looking up with a grin. “But I wanted to take a few pictures and videos to show Vaughn.” 

August raised a brow. “You called Sasha, I’m guessing.” 

“Yeah,” Rhys murmured, “Video call kind of thing. Showed her the snow and stuff. She told me to say hi.” 

August didn’t respond immediately, raising a brow. “Isn’t it almost midnight in Hollow Point?” 

Rhys nodded with a soft chuckle. “I told her I’d call her before she slept so she waited up,” He answered simply, shrugging a shoulder. “She was out with Fiona too.”

August went quiet again, eyes falling back down at the man before drifting over the various creaking wooden buildings across the street. His skin was slowly igniting with a sea of goosebumps, letting out a huff before looking back down to Rhys. 

“Well I’m about ready to eat and sleep,” He spoke, gauging the man for a reaction. “You better not wake me when you come up.” 

Rhys shook his head then, grabbing a hold of the railing on his side before climbing to a stand, quickly brushing off his hands. “I’m with you there,” He smiled, rubbing his arms. “God, this cold isn’t as fun as I expected.” 

August rolled his eyes as he led the way back into the saloon, Rhys following closely behind with his arms at his sides. He was quiet, eyes searching curiously before they were back where they started. Rhys sat onto his bed while August shut and locked the door, looking over as the man dug through his backpack. 

“Is the shower freezing?” Rhys grumbled out, frowning. “Am I better off showering in the morning?”

“Probably,” August answered honestly, pulling out his pistol from his waist before placing it onto the nightstand. 

Rhys only sighed, giving the man a nod before coming to a stand. “I’ll just go change,” He sighed, coming back to a stand with a stretch of his arms. “What if this blizzard gets bad? Will we get stuck here?” 

“Nah,” August answered, grabbing a serrated knife from his bag without another word. 

Rhys didn’t wait around for more of an answer, dipping into the bathroom and shutting the door without another word. 

August was back to looking over his pistol and knife, frowning a bit before looking to Rhys’ backpack. He wondered if the man had even brought a weapon with him, or rather if he even knew how to use one of the various guns Sasha had in her own collection. The man vaguely knew that Rhys was slowly working to build his own company, designing and creating various new weapons that August couldn’t care less about. 

Rhys was weird. Or at least weird to most Pandorans who held Pandoran values and beliefs. The man wasn’t exactly docile, although the idea of him hurting another human being, psycho or not, was a funny one. He was goofier, less hardened, and oftentimes enamored by things that were mundane to the average Pandoran. He preferred to talk things out over being violent, unlike most Pandorans, and had a knack for being a rather quick thinker. 

Yet, to survive on Pandora, one would need to know how to use a weapon. A gun, specifically. 

August kept his eyes on the knife in his hands as Rhys emerged from the bathroom, donning his own pair of sweats and a tank top, his hands carrying his suit in a neat folded pile. August’s eyes eventually looked up, searching him as he slowly packed his suit back into his backpack, gentle as always. 

“You brought a gun with you, right?” August asked, brows furrowed. 

Rhys didn’t look up, still organizing his clothing. “How stupid do you think I am?” He asked, only looking up when August snorted. 

“Very.”

Rhys rolled his eyes before shifting, hand moving to his own waist as he lifted up his tank, revealing none other than a sleek gray and red pistol. He pulled it out, waving it by the handle in front of August, before dropping it beside the man’s own weapon. 

“I don’t like to use it, but it’s always on me,” He muttered, shifting to lay back against the bed frame, holding out his metallic arm. “Wanna see something cool?”

August only blinked, giving the man an unimpressed nod.

Rhys grinned before curling his metallic fist. It took a second for August to notice exactly what had changed, his eyes widening just a bit at sight.

The knuckles of his prosthetic hand grew much sharper, mimicking spiked brass knuckles that were embedded into the metal. When Rhys’ hand relaxed, they disappeared into the sea of metal, settling in between the joints of his fingers. 

“Cool, isn’t it?” 

“You couldn’t put a gun in there?” August settled on, meeting his gaze with a smirk. 

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to,” He answered, arms crossed. “You know how horrible that could backfire? If it overheats or–”

“Alright, it was a suggestion,” August muttered, interrupting the man but not looking away. “It’s sick. Brass knuckles can kill any bandit if you punch hard enough.” 

“You’re forgetting that this baby-” He paused, flexing said metallic arm. “-Feels no pain at all. Probably the best thing I ever built.” 

August raised a brow. “You built your own arm?” He asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Sure did,” Rhys answered, almost too proudly. “Looking back, I wish I chose a cooler color, but the gray works too.” He shifted a bit, looking over to find August still looking him over. 

“The most unexpected thing out of you is the fact you managed to withstand the pain of a whole sleeve,” August spoke, smirking. “Not to mention the neck tattoo.” 

Rhys grinned. “And you still think I don’t stand a chance on this hell planet,” He replied, his shit-eating grin only growing. “I pack a bigger punch than you’d think.” 

August bit his tongue of the incoming barrage of insults he could have sent the man’s way, settling on huffing an amused breath through his nose. He didn’t mention the sea of raised, rigid scars beside the man’s metallic shoulder, reaching his collarbone before disappearing below the metal. He settled on reaching for the man’s gun, looking it over.

“That’s one of my babies too,” Rhys spoke, hands behind his head as he laid down, looking over. “First ever thing I brought to fruition.”

“Anything special about it?” 

“Not really,” Rhys half-shrugged, “It shoots well. Better stabilization for long-range shooting. I also personally like the red and silver.” 

August gave him a nod, speaking before he could stop himself. “You should make me something.” He blinked, eyes widening as he refused to look over, shifting only an inch. 

“I’ve been working on this cool SMG,” Rhys began, jumping up to sit, his metal palm already glowing. “It’s still in its early stages but I’ve developed this new program and…” 

August couldn’t help his small smile as he looked over, brow raised as the man continued to ramble on. 

* * *

Of course, things never exactly went the way Rhys would hope for them to go. He’s used to things falling apart or at least  _ something _ breaking, so it wasn’t too surprising when August’s car let out a rather violent  _ thump  _ as they sped through the Highlands. A series of curses had immediately left August’s mouth as he pulled over, stepping out of the car with Rhys in tow. 

Rhys couldn’t help his cringe as the blond man came to a crouch beside the back wheel, even more curses leaving him as the rubber material had been ripped. 

“You have a spare, don’t you?” Rhys asked, immediately wincing when August spun to look at him, still crouched down. 

“Of course I have a spare,” He snapped, climbing up to a stand as he made his way to the trunk. “Do I look like a fuckin’ idiot to you?” 

Rhys settled on staying quiet. 

“Grab me the toolbox from under the driver's seat,” August muttered, heaving out the spare tire in both arms. 

Rhys didn’t say much as he did just that, digging under the seat in search of the toolbox. He sighed in relief when it came up in his hands, holding it in both hands before looking around the vehicle.

The greenery of the Highlands was beautiful, in a weird way, the dirt road beneath them soft from what appeared to be last night’s rain. Mountains stood in the distance, the pale blue sky surrounding them with few clouds in the distance.

“Rhys, come on,” August snapped. 

“Yeesh, I’m coming,” Rhys replied, his long legs carrying him over. He immediately crouched down beside the man, one hand on the spare tire while the other looked over the ruined one. 

“Don’t wanna be stuck out here all day,” August grumbled in what sounded like in his best apologetic tone as he dug through the toolbox. “Keep the tire still for me.”

Rhys didn’t say anything as he did just that, both hands holding onto the upright tire as he stayed crouched, eyes watching as August went ahead in setting the vehicle up to have the tire replaced. 

“Might as well learn a thing or two,” August spoke, not looking back to the other man. 

Rhys couldn’t help but be offended, his jaw hanging as he scoffed. “You really think I don’t know how to replace a freaking tire?” He asked, shaking his head. 

“Hey, man, I’m just trying to help you,” August shot back, more annoyed than angry. 

“Well I don’t need help,” Rhys snapped, scowling at the back of the man’s head. “I don’t know where you got the idea in your head that I’m some useless idiot, but I can handle myself.” 

August snorted but didn’t say anything else, leaving Rhys to stew in his own anger and frustration. 

Slowly but surely, Rhys’ gaze shifted back to their surroundings, the unnatural silence pricking at his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his eyes searching for a beat before August spoke. 

“Gimme the tire,” He muttered, dropping the useless tire to the side as he held out a lug wrench to the man. “Hold this for me.”

Rhys easily traded the oversized tire for the metal tool, holding it with both hands as he looked over August’s work again. A snap of  _ something _ , his eyes wide.

It took a second for Rhys to really understand  _ what _ he was seeing. His brown eye stared at the hills behind them, seeing nothing. His Echo-Eye, on the other hand, was staring straight at a hunched over creature, snarling straight at them with wings for arms and claws for hands, it’s pointed tail aimed right at August’s neck. 

_ “Move!” _ Rhys all but shouted, practically shoving August to the side as the beast revealed itself, pouncing forward. A flash of pain ignited over Rhys’ flesh shoulder as he landed on his stomach, August a few feet to his side, scrambling to sit up. 

Rhys gripped the metal in his hands tighter before flipping onto his back and smacking the beast right over the head, disorientating it for long enough to reveal itself again. August didn’t hold back his fury as he immediately drilled the orange creature with bullets, the animal letting out a weak squawk before falling to the ground. 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?!” Rhys cried, staring at the dead beast just a foot away from him. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” August growled, climbing to a stand to kick the animal away from the car. “A Stalker. Bastards are invisible to the human eye.” He landed one final punt into its side, sending it back to the side of the road before searching through the hills, hand over his brows. “You see any more of those fuckers?”

Rhys shook his head, hand over his shoulder as he swallowed slowly, daring to pull his palm back with a wince at the red coating the inside of his palm. He bit down on his lip, hoping to hide the way his stomach lurched forward at the sight, gaze falling to the opened wound. A steady stream of blood made its way down his jacket, eyes widening. 

_ “Rhys?!” _ August called, only turning around when the man stayed quiet, his eyes widening immediately. 

“Um,” Rhys croaked, his face growing more and more pale as he looked over the wound. “I-It, uh–” He was roughly cut off as August fell to his knees ahead of him, a heavy palm wrapping just over the wound, his fingers moving to rip the sleeve down without another word. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Rhys!” August snapped, although his voice was filled with more panic than usual. “Fuck-” He was quick to grab Rhys’ metal wrist, shoving a piece of his now ripped sleeve into his hand before forcing it over the wound, earning a cry from the wounded man.

“Just fucking push down, I have a med kit,” August ordered, meeting Rhys’ gaze for a split second, pushing his hand tighter against the wound. “I’ll be right back.”

Rhys managed a nod, screwing his eyes shut as he rested the back of his head against the side of the car as he forced himself to let out a series of heavy breaths. The pain in his arm continued to grow, earning a near-whine from his mouth. 

August landed roughly on the ground ahead of him once again, medkit in his hands as he placed it beside him, scooting up to Rhys’ arm. He pulled his prosthetic hand away, hissing at the cut there before huffing out a breath. 

“It’s gonna have to be stitched,” August cursed, his one hand already digging to grab the small bottle of alcohol in his palm, setting it down beside his thigh before grabbing one of the various rags within. “This’ll hurt.” 

Rhys groaned, eyes still screwed shut, throat bobbing as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, metal hand digging into the ground. He couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as August roughly rubbed away the gathering blood. Rhys thought he was prepared for the alcoholic rag, only to let out a sharp cry when the rag connected with the wound, eyes flinging open. 

“Fucking stay still!” August snapped, fingers digging into his bare arm to keep him still. He continued to wipe at the wound, Rhys nearly shaking under his grip. 

“I’m stitchin’ it now,” August stated, his words sharper as he dug his bloodied fingers through the medkit, pulling out the needle and thread within. “Just… brace yourself.” 

Rhys nodded, eyes wide and locked on the clouds in the sky as he dug his metallic palm back into the dirt. He forced his mind to think about  _ anything _ but the stinging pain in his arm, flinching every few seconds against his own will. His heart raced, the pain only getting worse as it felt like an eternity before August pulled back, dropping the bloodied tools into the medkit. He raised the rag again, rubbing over the wound despite Rhys’ winces, his jaw setting.

“You’re stitched up,” August huffed out, looking over the wound with narrowed eyes, his hand still wrapped around the inside of Rhys’ elbow. His gaze flickered up to Rhys’ face, his skin an unnatural pale shade, chest falling and rising a bit quicker than he would’ve liked. 

“D-Did it ruin m-my ink?” Rhys croaked, not looking down at the wound as his eyes screwed shut again. 

August blinked, staring down at the wound. It was a three inch cut, nowhere near life threatening despite the obvious pain that was associated with a stalker’s stinger. 

“No,” He answered after a beat, lifting the rag out of the med kit to wipe his own hands, rubbing the blood off of Rhys’ metallic palm as well. “Just missed it. The scar will look cool in the middle of the blue.”

Rhys, to August’s surprise, let out a weak laugh. He swallowed slowly, nodding his head against the vehicle. His stomach still twisted painfully, the dizziness subsiding as he forced himself to speak. 

“Th-They’re not poisonous, right?” 

“No,” August answered, “You’re fucking lucky, a few inches to the right and you’d lose your other arm.” 

Rhys nodded, swallowing the tightened in his throat. “Y-Yeah, got it.” His figure tensed up when August moved, eyes following him the entire time. 

“Can you stand?” August asked, brows furrowed. “You can sit back in the car, I’ll fix this shit and then we can drive back.” 

“T-To Hollow Point?!” Rhys cried out, shaking his head. “No, I-I’m fine!” He pushed himself up onto his metallic palm, August immediately frowning before helping him up onto his shaky legs. His skin was still unnaturally white, eyes blinking as August led him to the passenger side, hand tight around his elbow, helping him into the seat. 

“I’m fine, I-I just need a second,” Rhys muttered, eyes shut as he leaned back in his seat. “I need a new sh-shirt.” 

August resisted the urge to roll his eyes, looking over the man for a beat before shutting the door, leaving Rhys to his own devices. He made his way back to the wheel, working at a slower pace now that he was alone, finally situating the wheel back on with a huff. He shoved the tools back into the tools box, holding the bloodied lug wrench for a beat before shoving it into the box as well. 

The wheel fit back into the trunk with ease, August making his way back over to the front of the car, sighing heavily before climbing into the driver seat. He looked over to Rhys almost immediately, the man now sporting a new hoodie, staring straight at the dead carcass. 

“You brought a  _ Hyperion _ hoodie?!” August snapped, unable to hide his disbelief. “How the hell did you even get into it!?”

“It’s comfortable!” Rhys cried, looking over the hoodie. “A-And it’s only got an H.” 

“It’s bright yellow with the damn logo,” August retorted, frowning. “God, alright, whatever.” He turned back ahead, hands gripping the wheel tight. Rhys shifted beside him, relaxing his long legs in the seat before setting his head back onto the headrest, eyes shut. 

“How bad’s the pain?” 

“Tolerable,” Rhys answered, not looking over. “And we’re not heading back to Hollow Point. Not until we get what we drove all the way out here for.” 

August was quiet for a beat, nails digging into the rubber steering wheel. “Fine. But you’re telling Sasha now.” 

Rhys’ eyes widened comically, an immediate frown growing over his features. “No, you can’t make me.” 

“Fine by me,” August spoke, twisting the key in the car. “We’re headed back.” He put the vehicle in reverse for dramatic effect, earning another cry from the man, Rhys metal hand clamping over his wrist as if to stop him. 

“Okay! Okay I-I’ll call her!” Rhys whined, already pouting. August gave him a smirk, dropping his hand to put the car back into park, turning it off with a flip of his key. 

“Go ahead then,” He spoke, watching as Rhys kept his left arm tight against his stomach, sighing heavily. 

“Really, man?” 

“Yes, really,” August shot back, frowning. “She’ll rip my head off if I bring you back injured with no heads up.” 

_ “Orrr _ I don’t tell her anything and it’s a cool scar with a cool story!” Rhys attempted weakly, August’s frown not giving as he looked him over. Rhys’ shoulders fell after a beat, raising a hand to his ear. 

Silence filled the car, Rhys metallic palm already splayed out, his lips pulled into a fake grin as he began to speak. 

“Heya honey,” He greeted, Sasha's face popping up on his palm, flickering in the blue light as she grinned back.

“Hey! What’s up?” She spoke, looking him over. “Got more snow to show me?” 

“Uh, no,” Rhys chuckled awkwardly, turning his palm a bit to show Sasha the man beside him. August raised a hand, giving her a weak wave with a slight frown. 

“Hi, August!” She greeted once more, “How’re you guys? Where are you at now?” 

“Uh, The Highlands, I think,” Rhys answered, turning his palm back to his front. “I think there’s like, four more hours to our next rest stop. August won’t let me dri–”

“He got attacked by a Stalker,” August interrupted, his voice effectively silencing the car as Rhys looked over, eyes wide and looking ready to burst.

_ “He WHAT?!” _

“Babe- I-I’m fine!” Rhys cried out, looking over her near frantic face. “I-It wasn’t even–”

“Where!? Are you still bleeding?!” Sasha rushed out, her alarm only growing. “How the fuck did this happen!?” 

“I'm fine _!”  _ Rhys cut in, “Sasha, I promise. It was just a cut in my shoulder. It’s all fixed up. August stitched me up just fine!” 

_ “Stitched you?!” _

“He needed a few in his shoulder, not fatal,” August spoke up then, voice gruff but honest. “He says he’s fine.” 

Rhys shot the man another dirty look before flickering away the hologram that was Sasha, effectively taking her off speaker. 

_ “How far are you from the nearest town?” _ Sasha’s frantic voice spoke into his ear,  _ “I’m sure there's a travel station and–” _

“We’re not coming home early, Sash,” Rhys sighed out, his face falling into his metal hand. “I promise you I’m fine, I just wanted to tell you because I don’t like hiding things from you.” He ignored August’s snort, shaking his head a bit. “I’ll be home in a few days, promise.”

Sasha was predictably silent for a long moment, her voice finally crackling over after a moment. 

_ “You said a stalker?” _

“Yeah,” Rhys answered, clearing his throat a bit. “Scary invisible fuckers. But we killed it. We’re safe now.” 

Shuffling erupted on the other side of the call, Rhys frowning a bit before she spoke once again, voice softer.

_ “Please be careful, Rhys. Please.”  _

“I know, I promise I will be,” Rhys murmured back, chest aching. “August’s got my back, he’ll keep me safe,” He joked, looking over to find the man sitting back with his arms crossed, shaking his head a bit.

“We’re going to leave now, but I’ll call you again tonight, promise,” Rhys spoke, his metal hand digging into his own thigh as he kept his left arm tight against his side, ignoring the burning pain that was his shoulder. 

_ “Okay. I trust you.” _

Rhys smiled softly at that, his eyes crinkling a bit before wishing the woman a goodbye, waiting till she was ready before hanging up. A heavy sigh left his figure as he sat up straight, looking over to August. The man was still staring straight ahead, hands tight around the steering wheel.

“Happy?” Rhys asked, raising a brow. 

August didn’t reply immediately, eyes narrowing before he worked his jaw. “How did you see the stalker before it attacked?” He asked. 

“Echo-Eye,” Rhys answered, shrugging his right shoulder. “Picks them up, I guess. That was the first one I’ve ever seen. Scared the hell out of me.” 

August huffed a breath out of his nose. “Next time make sure you get yourself out of the way first,” He grumbled, turning the key. 

Rhys raised his brows. “Oh, sorry for trying to stop the weird talon thing from eating you!” He snapped, shaking his head. “Next time I’ll let it just chomp your head off! Or stab you with it’s stinger!” 

August only grumbled out a curse, his foot on the gas pedal as they started their journey once more. 

* * *

Rhys stands in the run down bathroom of yet another inn, his wounded shoulder exposed as he searched the messily done stitches. The stinger had just barely nicked his skin, digging deep enough for the need of stitches. It ached with each breath, the pain pulsating as Rhys relaxed his arm back to his side. He set his jaw, taking in a deep breath before shrugging his hoodie back on, his hair dripping wet. The sweatpants and hoodie were enough to keep him warm in the barren inn, nearly pouting as he exited the bathroom. 

August was where he had left him, sitting on his bed with his pistol in hand, cleaning it once more. Rhys didn’t feel the need to speak to the other man as he crossed over to his bed, pulling his hood over his head before plopping down onto the stiff mattress. It took a beat before he felt comfortable, shutting his eyes as he sighed out a heavy note. 

“There’s a pickled soda in the bag next to you,” August spoke, voice low. 

Rhys opened his eyes, brows furrowing as he looked over, finding a paper bag that hadn’t been there before. He sat up, flesh arm curled to his side before pulling out the glass bottle, blinking his eyes.

“Ran to grab something,” August offered in a grumble, not looking up from his weapon. “Saw it in the store.” 

Rhys dared to smile, hiding the look when August finally met his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Did it seem infected when you showered?”

“No,” Rhys answered honestly, shrugging his metal shoulder as he placed the bottle between his thighs, cracking open the lid with his metallic palm. He smiled in anticipation before taking a large gulp, placing the glass bottle onto the nightstand between them with a grin. 

“You said we’re meeting them in the morning?” Rhys asked, tilting his head as he looked over the man. 

“Around noon,” August answered, lifting his weapon in the air to ensure it was cleaned and ready for use. “We’ll leave here at nine.” 

“Cool,” Rhys spoke, taking another swig from his drink. Silence fell over the two, interrupted only by the clinking of the glass onto the wooden table. Rhys’ eyes searched the near-barren room, frowning a bit before locking back on the side of August’s face.

“Do you ever want to leave Hollow Point?” He asked, unsure why. 

August raised a brow, not looking over. “Does it look like I’m there right now?” 

“Well no,” Rhys replied, sitting back against the headboard. “But do you ever wish you could leave permanently? Like with a new job.” 

August was quiet, his eyes narrowing before shrugging a shoulder. “I don’t mind working at the bar,” He spoke slowly. “It’s not the best money, but I’m good at it. And it’s money. I could be worse off.” He paused, finally looking over to Rhys. “I’m not workin’ at your shitty company, Rhys.” 

“I never said I’d hire you,” Rhys retorted, frowning as he crossed his arms. “I was just asking. It’s a fair question.” 

Another beat passed, August still quiet before he shrugged once more. “Maybe, I’d have to have a better life out there because I’m not gettin’ out of here just to be back where I started.” 

“Gotcha,” Rhys replied, saving the pivot of information for later. “Makes sense.” 

August nodded to himself. “When are you leaving?” He asked, his voice almost… quieter.

“If this deal next week goes well, then six months,” Rhys answered, looking down at his prosthetic palm. “If not… then I might be back to square one. We’ll see.” 

August looked over then, gaze searching Rhys before giving him a stiff nod. “Good luck,” He spoke, saying nothing more as he laid back into the mattress. “I’m ready to sleep. Keep quiet.” 

Rhys only gave him a nod, looking at his glass as he took the last and final sip, his lips twitched as he reached over, flicking off the lamp before sinking deeper into the mattress, curling under the rough blanket. He lied on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment before shutting his eyes. 

* * *

If Rhys had known the two ‘friends’ of August were in fact bandits who resided in bandit territory, he definitely wouldn’t have even suggested tagging along with the man. His one reprieve comes from the fact that they we’re not meeting inside of a bandit camp, but rather a quarter mile down the road. Rhys can see the outline of the too-large camp, the rain pattering around them as he holds his metallic palm over his head. 

He really needed to remember to steal one of Fiona’s hats.

August stands beside him, looking as unhappy as him. He’s wearing a hoodie beneath his vest, the dark green fabric thankfully coming with a hood to protect him from the sprinkling rain. 

Rhys curls his hand into a fist at the emerging figures in the fog, taking in a long breath. 

“They’re not gonna hurt us,” August grumbles out, looking more annoyed than anything. “It’s an easy grab and go.” 

“I trust you,” Rhys squeaked out, earning a snort from August as the man cleared his throat, standing up straight. 

“Put your hand down, you look like an idiot,” August muttered. 

“It’s raining!” 

“You’re already soaked, it doesn’t matter.”

Rhys sighed before doing just that, letting the cool rain connect with his hair as he nearly pouted, arms crossing in annoyance. His shoulders tense up when the figures grow closer, his eyes quickly searching them.

Usually, Rhys would respect others' privacy and  _ not _ scan them with his Echo. He’s also not known to hang out with  _ real life _ bandits, so he shoves that little rule to the side and swallows slowly as his Echo searches them. 

_ Two weapons, both SMGs, _ He notes, looking over their heavy armor and clothing.  _ Looks like the bigger guy carries a machete. Left waistband. _

“August,” The taller of the two greets, arms out as if to hug the blond man. “Well, it’s been nearly two years since I last saw you!”

_ Um, there’s no beer to be found here, _ Rhys thinks to himself, eyes widening a bit as the pair come to a stand just a foot ahead. The shorter of the two is looking over Rhys, an almost hungry look on his face, teeth sticking out as he twitched very few seconds. The taller bandit was wearing much bulkier clothing, nearly hidden from sight. 

“Yeah, nice reunion,” August mutters out. “You joined a bandit camp?” 

“Guns for hire,” The shorter one chirped up, “Bandit camps bring guns, blood, and money.” 

Rhys shifted at that, an unfortunate move as they both looked to him. He wasn’t sure if August stiffened or if it was his imagination. 

The bulkier assailant is now holding his SMG in hand, playing with the handle as he looked over Rhys. “Ain’t this the little corporate bastard who got Vallory killed?” 

Rhys stills, heart in his throat as he looks to August, not quite sure if talking would help or hurt his case.

“Sure is” August answered cleanly, perking a brow as he effectively changed the topic. “You get paid more here or something?” 

The shorter bandit twitched with a shake of his head, hand hovering over his weapon on his hip. “No, b-but we get more bloodshed. More killing,” He grinned maniacally.

_ Okay. Don’t like this,  _ Rhys thought to himself, swallowing slowly.  _ Like. At all. _

“We want our gift now,” The taller bandit spoke, looking to Rhys. “Does he know he’s gonna be our new plaything?”

Rhys was quick to shake his head. “No- Um, August says I’m off limits!” He looks to the man but August doesn’t even meet his gaze, looking rather unbothered.  _ “August-” _

Relief floods Rhys when the man sighs, his hand reaching into his waistband and pulling out his pistol. Rhys is prepared to join in on the fight, only to freeze when the weapon connects with his back, digging into his spine. 

_ Oh. This- This is bad. _

“Au-August?” He croaks, and it’s the only noise that leaves him as his eyes lock on the two ahead of him stepping closer.

“Take him,” August shrugged, “A gift, from me.” 

“Vallory always treated us best,” The taller bandit droned on, giving August a shake of his head as he shoved his SMG back into his waistband, grinning widely. “S’a shame what happened to her, huh?”

Rhys’ mind is moving too fast for him to really grasp a handle on the situation. He wanted so desperately to believe that this was just one of August’s games, that the man wasn’t actually about to hand him over to an  _ entire bandit camp. _ The clicking of the gun against his back seems to tell him otherwise, eyes widening dramatically as the shorter bandit held his hands out towards him, prepared to practically rip him apart. 

Even with that, Rhys seemed frozen. Disbelief filled his figure as his heart raced, flesh hand shaking. 

“Sure is,” August replied, pulling Rhys out of his mind with his nearly icey words words. “Bigger shame you two turned to this.” 

The heftier bandit shook with a laugh, cracking his neck before grabbing the front of Rhys’ shirt in his palm, the man letting out a sharp yelp. August’s gun only dug deeper into his lower back, stilling him.

“Oh please, we’re made for the bloodshed,” The large man replied, “You know you are too, August. Your mama made sure of it.”

August nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, I guess she did.” 

Rhys is ready to just swing his prosthetic fist at the bandit ahead of him, his hand curling to do just that. He doesn’t get the chance to raise his arm as August shifts quickly, the push of his weapon shifting from his lower back and aimed straight at the bigger bandit. Rhys is roughly shoved to the ground through sheer strength on August’s account, the man drilling both bandits with a series of bullets. They too soon fell to the ground, nowhere near fast enough to react to the swiftness of August’s gun. 

Rhys stares at their still bodies with wide eyes, sitting up with a wide blink of his eyes, hurt arm curled around his stomach.

“Come on up,” August calls after a beat.

Rhys blinked, turning to the man with a near petrified look, only to find August hand outstretched for him, nodding his head in the direction the car was parked. Rhys stared, blinking again as he slowly shut his jaw, taking his hand as he climbed to a stand 

“You thought I’d shoot you?” August spoke, looking nearly amused. 

“Gonna be honest,” Rhys croaked out, nodding his head slowly, eyes locked on the dead bodies. “Kinda thought you were going to pull that trigger, yeah. O-Or hand me over.” 

August dared to laugh. “Fair enough,” He replied with a slight shake of his head. “I needed an excuse to get their guns out of their hands, you were convenient.” 

“I’m guessing this wasn’t a product run to start with,” Rhys breathed out, looking at the man.

“Hell no,” August snorted. “You think I’d leave Hollow Point for some cheap beer?” He shook his head, clapping Rhys’ metal shoulder with his heavy palm. “I’ve been wiping out the gang. One by one. Gettin’ rid of ‘em all.”

Rhys’ eyes widened. “You… were?”

August smirked. “Yeah, had to rid Pandora of those bastards,” He explained, “These were the last two on the list. Everyone else died one way or another. That blue headed lady helped. The vault hunter.” 

_ “Athena?” _

“That’s the one,” August grinned. 

Rhys took a minute to just breath, instinctively rubbing the small of his back. “I was meant to be bait this whole time?”

August laughed once more, ducking down to loot the bodies on the ground. “I made that part up when they recognized you,” He spoke, “They wouldn’t leave camp if I didn’t promise them something. You asked to come and… here we are.” He stood up, holding a wad of cash, splitting it down the middle and holding it out for Rhys. “Your share.” 

“I-I don’t want your blood money!” Rhys cried out, still in shock. “Are you serious?” 

August only rolled his eyes, leaning forward to shove the wad of cash into his jacket pocket, turning back to the vehicle parked a good mile away. “Come on, I’m sick of this rain.” 

Rhys watched as the man walked away for a good few seconds before shouting his name, running to catch up beside him. “August! Wait a minute-” He huffed out, coming to a walk beside him. “I-Is that it?!” 

“Sure is,” August answered with a nod. “Hollow Point is another day and a half’s drive and I’m frankly tired of staying in musty inns.” He looked to Rhys, raising a brow. “You good to drive a good leg of the way?” 

Rhys blinked, looking over the man for a beat before focusing back ahead. 

_ Pandorans. _

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

* * *

Rhys and August are back in Hollow Point only two days later, exhausted and ready to collapse into their collective mattresses. The sun’s setting on the cave-city, the last light of the sun glimmering through the town. 

The Purple Skag is closed, awaiting the incoming crowd that would no doubt appear in a few hours. Rhys is exhausted for August. 

“Don’t tell me you’re working tonight,” Rhys asks, eyes burning from lack of bed from the last leg of their journey.

“Fuck no,” August snorted, dropping his bag to the floor. “I’m takin’ a fucking bath. Then I’m sleeping until next week.” 

“Fair enough,” Rhys laughed, a tired smile on his lips. “I’ll be doing the same probably. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Rhys watches as August’s eyes flicker to his shoulder, if only for just a beat, before locking on his face.

“So, uh, I’ll see you around?” Rhys spoke, almost unsure.

August raised a brow. “We do live in the same city, so yeah, probably,” He joked, smirking. 

“Alright, asshole,” Rhys muttered, unable to hide his own smile. “I better get to Sasha,” He started, looking to the clock on the wall. “She’s not expecting me for another two hours, I think this’ll be a good surprise.” 

“Or she’ll kill you,” August replied. 

“Or she’ll kill me,” Rhys repeated with a small laugh. He wasn’t quite ready to leave, unwilling to admit just how… enjoyable the last few days with August were. A part of him wants to say something sweet, something that’d probably leave August angry or frustrated.

August speaks before he can, looking Rhys in the eyes.

“Y’know, Rhys,” He started, crossing his arms. “If these last few days have taught me anything, it’s that you’re still an idiot.” 

Rhys’ jaw falls, a scowl of offense growing over his features as he scoffs. 

“But,” August continued, rolling his eyes. “You’re not a useless idiot.”

It’s a near instant change, Rhys’ jaw snapping shut, a wide grin growing on his lips, his teeth showing in pure glee.

“Yeah, well you’re still an asshole,” Rhys pointed out, fixing his grip on the backpack in his hand. “That hasn’t changed.” 

“Good,” August chuckled, shaking his head. “Get outta my bar, man.”

Rhys gives him a grin, waving his flesh hand to give him a small wave to his best ability. He’s nearly halfway out the door before August calls for him again. Rhys looks over his shoulder, the man leaning against his bar counter messing with a glass.

“I heard somewhere that Promethea’s known for having a huge party culture.”

Rhys raises a brow, almost confused as he searches the man with narrowed eyes. “How’d you know I had Promethea in mind?”

August shrugs, putting the glass down but not looking up. “You talk in your sleep.” 

A small smile grew over Rhys’ lips as he chuckled softly, August finally meeting his gaze. 

“You know, you’re not the first to say that,” Rhys replied, his smile growing. “I should probably find a fix for that, can’t be giving all my prototypes away in my sleep now, can I?”

August rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you around, Rhys.” 

Rhys gives the man a final wave before heading out the door. He makes his way into the streets of Hollow Point, the streets now busy. Rhys didn’t find he minded, his boots echoing off the cave floor as he navigated his way back to his home.

_ Home, _ Rhys repeats to himself, a small smile growing on his lips. 

It only takes a few minutes of walking before Rhys is back in front of the small apartment he resided in, shoulders sagging in relief as he stepped up to the door. He doesn’t bother knocking, pulling out the key from his pocket with a hum. It gets stuck in the keyhole, earning a frustrated huff from Rhys before it gives, opening up slowly. 

Music greets Rhys’ ears first, his heart skipping a beat at the soft voice singing along to the beat. He doesn’t bother with his bag, dropping it to the ground in the doorway before sliding out of his jacket, hanging it on the rack beside the door before following the sound of the voice into the kitchen. 

Sasha stood, as beautiful as always, her back to Rhys as she worked on something on the counter. Her long braids were tied into a messy ponytail, her chest hidden behind one of Rhys’ buttons up, a pair of his boxers on her legs.

It took everything in Rhys to not declare his love for her then and there.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching for another beat before clearing his throat. 

Sasha jumped with a small yelp, spinning around with fearful eyes. Her jaw fell instantly, a gasp leaving her as she let out an excited cry. 

“Rhys! Y-You– What-!?” She sputtered out, unable to stand still as Rhys walked into the room, his arms out.   


It was all the invitation Sasha needed as she jumped up and into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck as he held her tightly, placing a kiss in her hair. 

“You idiot!” She whined, resting her chin against his metallic shoulder. Rhys set her down after a beat, her eyes wide and searching his. “I wasn’t expecting you–I wanted to get ready and–”

Rhys leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips, his flesh hand holding the side of her jaw. Sasha leaned in immediately, her hand on the side of his neck, squeezing his waist with her other palm before jolting back. 

“Y-You’re hurt!” She stammered out, immediately reaching for the buttons of his vest, undoing them quickly as Rhys laughed softly. The man leaned forward, forehead coming to a rest over her scalp, arms lazily around her waist.

“I’m fine, baby,” He murmured, happy to just be in her presence. “Promise. It’s just a cut.”

Sasha only shifted to his long sleeve, undoing the buttons there with a huff before pulling down his collar, exposing the cut on the side of his shoulder. Rhys leaned back to look at it, frowning a bit as she gently ran her thumb over the blue surrounding it. 

“Turns out my eye can pick out stalkers,” He murmured softly, giving her a gentle smile as she looked up, eyes big. “I’m okay. I promise.”

It took a beat before Sasha seemed to relax, leaning forward to place a kiss on the soft skin of his shoulder, placing another one for good luck. 

“You were cooking dinner for me?” Rhys spoke, his voice nearly a squeak. 

“Of course,” Sasha replied, “And I was going to slip into something more cute, I had this new top and–”

“You look beautiful as always,” Rhys cut in, holding her chin in his hand, a smile growing over his lips as she grew pink. “I missed you.” 

Sasha turned to place a kiss on the inside of his palm, hands slipping into the band of his slacks, pulling him closer. “I missed you more.” 

“I doubt it,” Rhys teased, grinning. “You didn’t have to deal with August’s snoring.” 

Sasha laughed then, leaning forward to place her head over his chest, shutting her eyes. Rhys arms tightened around her, his cool metallic hand in the back of her hair, holding her closer as he pursed his lips onto her scalp. 

Rhys held onto Sasha for another moment, his mind preparing for the stories he would soon tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to drop a kudos/comment and follow me on Tumblr: ewbie.tumblr. com


End file.
